


Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

by kryptonianmenace



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kryptonianmenace/pseuds/kryptonianmenace
Summary: Damian Wayne had learned long ago that Tim Drake did not drink underage, no matter how many times Jason Todd offered to help him.So when Damian found him taking a swig straight from the bottle at Todd’s apartment, Damian was all sorts of confused.Tim Drake has a ritual - the anniversary of the day he lied to Bruce about having an uncle to get out of being adopted, he gets drunk. This is the only night a year he does so.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Damian Wayne had learned long ago that Tim Drake was not one to break the rules and sneak an alcoholic drink, no matter how many times Jason Todd offered.

And Jason Todd, Damian had learned long ago, offered a lot.

* * *

Damian picked up on it when he was eleven, a year into his time as Robin, just before Father came back.

“Come on, Replacement, you’re pulling apart at the seams, you need a little pick me up,” Todd had said to Drake, the two either unaware or uncaring that the newest Robin was spying on them. “I have some booze back at my place, you can have some, I’ll even keep an eye on you, if you want.”

“I’m seventeen, Hood,” Drake had replied tersely. And if Damian recalled correctly, Todd was only nineteen himself. As if the law would stop Jason Todd from doing what he wanted.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have cause to drink,” Todd said. “Robin taken from you, B gone, no one believing you. You sound like you need to get drunk for a night, let loose. Maybe it’ll relieve something in you, take a chip off your shoulder.”

“I’m not you,” Drake said. They argued some more about it, but ultimately, Drake’s answer remained a resounding no.

* * *

“Come on, brotherly bonding,” Todd insisted. 

“We can do that with burgers and _sobriety,”_ Drake said.

“Ah, but drinking is more fun,” Todd said.

Drake scoffed. “I’m underage, and so are you, I’m not going to drink.”

“Buzzkill,” Todd said.

It was a conversation that happened a dime a dozen.

* * *

“Welcome to the Dead Robins Club, Replacement,” Todd said. “Wanna get drunk about it?”

Drake snorted, and while Damian would refuse to admit it to anyone, he caught himself before following suit. The two didn’t know he was spying on them, and he wanted it to stay that way.

“We still don’t know if I actually died, Jay,” Drake said.

Todd shrugged. “I count Steph as part of the club, and she faked her death. So you can count, too. I just refuse to count Dick until he stops insisting we call him Ric, because there’s only so much bullshit I’ll put up with.”

Drake laughed. “Fair enough, though I doubt Damian will like me being in your club.”

“As the founder, I get final say on members. Anyway, back to the original question: Your death, wanna get drunk about it?” Todd asked.

And this time, Damian noted, at least Todd was twenty-one. Drake was still underage, but that wouldn’t stop Todd from offering.

“I’m good, Jason, but thanks,” Drake said, which Damian expected him to say.

“I wouldn’t call a semi-fake death and seven months of solitary confinement ‘good,’ Timmy,” Todd said.

Drake sighed. “Who told you about that part?”

Todd shrugged. “I may have been eavesdropping on your convo with Steph.”

“Whatever. This whole family is overbearing, I should’ve expected it,” Drake said. “But still, I don’t need to get drunk. I’m handling it just fine, and B is making me have mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Thompkins anyway.”

* * *

Damian Wayne had learned long ago that Tim Drake did not drink underage, no matter how many times Jason Todd offered to help him.

So when Damian found him taking a swig straight from the bottle at Todd’s apartment, Damian was all sorts of confused.

* * *

Damian used Jason Todd’s apartment for all the stray animals he found on patrol that Father wouldn’t let him take home (with the exception of cats, of course, those went to Selina Kyle). They stayed just long enough until Todd could find them a new home, and up until that point, Damian would swing by and visit the creatures to make sure Todd was taking care of them properly.

Most recent was a litter of three puppies, who Todd was insisting on naming Huey, Dewey, and Louie, after the triplets from DuckTales. Damian had argued against the names, but Todd insisted that if they stayed in his home, he got naming rights.

It was for this reason alone that Damian was even over at the apartment.

Seeing Drake was a surprise. Seeing a twenty year old Drake drunk was a non-option in his mind.

* * *

And yet, here they were.

* * *

Just as Damian entered the apartment, Drake took a swig from the bottle of RumChata, sprawled on the floor with his back against the couch, Todd’s Netflix playing a cartoon Damian didn’t recognize in the background. One of the puppies, Dewey, was sleeping in Drake’s lap, while the other two roughhoused in the pen Todd had set up for the animals Damian brought over. Todd was nowhere in sight.

“Drake,” Damian greeted, confused. “What are you doing here? Where’s Todd?”

Drake carefully moved the sleeping puppy on his lap so it was sleeping on the couch. “What does it look like? I’m puppy sitting. Jay’s helping Roy with Lian for a bit so I’m watching the puppies until he gets back.”

“So you helped yourself to his alcohol? You don’t even drink,” Damian said, toeing his shoes off and moving to grab one of the roughhousing puppies, Louie. Louie wiggled with excitement at the sight of Damian and Damian settled down on the floor in front of the TV, cuddling the puppy to his chest.

Drake tilted his head back and laughed loudly. “For your information, I brought my own,” he said. “And he said it’s cool if I break into his stash if mine’s not enough.”

“You don’t drink,” Damian repeated.

Drake pointed the bottle at Damian. “That’s where you’re wrong, I drink one day a year.”

Damian cocked an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like Drake at all.

“On the anniversary,” Drake clarified, taking another swig. It was then that Damian wondered just how much was left in the bottle, just how much Drake had been drinking. He wouldn’t normally share something like this with Damian, so how much had he drunk that he was?

“The anniversary of what?” Damian asked. If this was his only chance to get more information out of Drake, might as well take it, right?

Drake sighed and slumped further against the couch. “The day I told Bruce not to adopt me.”

What?

Had Damian heard that right?

“What?” Damian asked.

“I’m a terrible son,” Drake continued on, seemingly ignoring Damian’s question. “I _wanted_ him to adopt me, even before my parents died, how shitty is that?”

Damian scrunched up his brows, processing, but before he could respond, Drake continued.

“And sure, they probably never loved me, but dad tried to in the end. He wasn’t the best, but he tried. Why else would he have made me quit being Robin? And they’re still my parents. How can I just… let someone else adopt me and pretend like they never existed?” Drake asked. “Of course, I can’t do this… drunken ritual thing, or whatever, on the _actual_ day I feel guilty about, which is my real adoption day, because it’s supposed to be a happy day, you know? And also Bruce would notice. So… today.”

Damian weighed his options. There was a lot to unpack, but it was best to start with one thing at a time. Finally, he spoke. “What do you mean, they probably never loved you?”

Drake cackled at that. “They forgot _everything,_ my birthdays, my school requirements, even the days they would tell me they’d come home. Sometimes I think they just forgot _me,_ you know? I told Jason about my childhood once and he said with how much I snuck out unsupervised, I’m practically a Crime Alley kid like him.” Drake paused. “Oh wait,” he added. “You wouldn’t know about that.”

“Know about what?” Damian asked.

“When I was like, somewhere around six to eight, I think, I started sneaking out and following Batman and Robin with a camera without them noticing me. That’s part of how I figured out their identities and became Robin,” Drake said. “I don’t think Bruce and Dick fully understand the magnitude of what that means, but I was in and out of the bad parts of Gotham all the time, following them. I spent so much time in Crime Alley, it feels more like home than my childhood home ever did.”

Damian remained silent, processing. He hadn’t known how Drake had become Robin, and from what he gathered, there was more to the story. But the image of a young Tim Drake, untrained, following Batman and Robin unseen? That just… did not compute.

“Wait, we were talking about my parents,” Drake said, waving his bottle wildly. “And how I’m a terrible son.”

“How are you terrible?” Damian asked. “Father doesn’t seem to have any issues with you.”

Drake groaned. “That’s the _point,_ Damian. What kind of ungrateful son wants someone else to adopt them before their parents are even dead? And what kind of person struggles to mourn their own parents?”

“You struggle to mourn your parents?” Damian asked.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Drake exclaimed. Damian reflected that Drake had not been, but if that’s what his drunken mind was telling him, Damian would not argue.

There was a long silence, an awkward one, as Drake took another swig of his bottle and Damian continued to pet the puppy he was cuddling.

“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like they would’ve struggled to mourn you, so I think it’s okay to struggle to mourn them,” Damian finally said. “But I’m also not an expert on being an orphan. I don’t know the rules.”

Drake snorted, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, sure, let’s go with that. Let’s say it’s okay that I struggle to mourn my parents, what then?”

“Then… You don’t need to feel guilty about being adopted,” Damian said slowly. “Your parents forgot about you, but the person who adopted you doesn’t. He wants you around. Your adoptive family wants you around.”

“Except you,” Drake said. “You hate me.”

Damian sighed. “I don’t hate you as much as I used to,” he admitted. “Father wants you around, so there must be some value to you.”

Drake let out a watery grin and stared down at his lap. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It’s because you’re drunk,” Damian said. “It’s pitiful.”

Drake laughed. “Okay. Thanks, Damian.”

“Sure,” Damian said.

**Author's Note:**

> tl;dr: Tim is guilty that he doesn't miss his parents as much as he feels he should and that he feels Bruce is a better parent than they ever were, and I'm a sucker for Damian learning about Tim's history.  
> [Check out my tumblr!](https://haljordanisbatman.tumblr.com/)


End file.
